Whether you live in London or in Paris, some things never change: you live a fast-paced life. This means that you are always rushing around. Always.
I hadn’t realised how fast-paced my life was until a few days ago, when I landed in Australia for some much-needed holidays. To cut a long story short, things are a lot more chilled this side of the world. And although I was a bit surprised at first, now I like it.
In London, we look down on whoever dares to walk too slowly. We expect a quick service when we go to a restaurant. Our grocery shopping is done in less than 10 minutes. We moan when the Tube is a few minutes late. We are always in a hurry, and juggling far too many plates. Of course, I am no exception. I always have something to do, somewhere to be. It never stops.
Over here, in Brisbane, things are, well, different. It’s hard to explain, and I didn’t understand it at first. It started with the custom officer, who took the time for a little chat while checking our passports. Unbelievable. Where the hell was I?
Then, the cab driver taking us to the hotel was very nice and rounded the fare down. What was going on?
Suffice to say, it hasn’t stopped ever since. So yes, the service is slower, and everything may take a little bit more time. But it feels very relaxing. I think that I had forgotten what life was about. I thought that the whole world was living at a fast pace, but I was clearly wrong. And frankly, it feels good to take my time for once. People are friendlier, the food is fresher, and walking a bit slower allows me to actually enjoy my surroundings for once. In short, I am less stressed.
Where did I take a wrong turn? I don’t know. How could I forget to take my time and enjoy myself more? I have no idea. It is clearly something that happened to me progressively, and I didn’t see it coming. I need to be more careful.
The funny thing is that I needed to come all the way to Australia to find out that my life was way too fast. So what to do? Maybe I should stay a bit longer. What do you think?